


Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

by Moonfoot



Category: Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: Female Character of Color, Gen, POV Character of Color, POV Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2014-02-06
Packaged: 2018-01-10 18:54:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1163268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonfoot/pseuds/Moonfoot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s funny, she hardly knows Coach, Ellis, and Nick. She only just met them a few weeks ago, and despite the forced living arrangements, they don’t often talk about themselves. Or, well, not about the big stuff anyway. They don’t know that she has a sister and nephews that she’s worried sick about. She doesn’t talk about how she misses her friends, misses talking to women. She won’t tell them that she was worried at first about being the only woman in the group, won’t say that she wasn’t just scared of the zombies the first few nights. They’ve proven themselves to her over and over in a thousand different ways, and she knows that she could have had it a lot worse, is grateful to them for everything they’ve done for her and helped her to do. She trusts them. Somehow they’ve become three of the most important people in her life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to read a fic from Rochelle's POV, but since I haven't been able to find one, I decided to write one myself. Nick/Ellis if you squint really hard.

Rochelle slowly blinks open her eyes to the harsh light of the sun beating down on her, causing her to squint up at the sky in confusion. She turns her head to the side and tries to focus on something, but everything’s blurry and she’s seeing double, so she shuts her eyes again. She knows that’s probably not the best idea, seeing as the last thing she remembers is shooting at a tank and running for her life, but her head is pounding and she can’t bring herself to care at the moment.

“Ro?!”

 _Nick_ , she thinks. _That’s Nick’s voice._

“Shit. Hey, you with me?” It’s louder this time, like he’s kneeling next to her, and she’s aware of the sun being blocked. _That’s better_ , she thinks.

“ _Rochelle._ ”

Rochelle blinks a few times to clear her vision and manages a weak, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. I think. Just a little dizzy.”

“No kidding, your head hit the concrete,” Nick says as he helps her up into a sitting position.

“The tank?”

“Yeah, knocked you flat. I think it just clipped you. If I hadn’t found that grenade launcher, we’d have been fucked.”

Wait, what? “Where are Coach and Ellis?”

Nick bites his lip before answering. “We got separated when the tank chased us. Last I saw, they got swarmed by a hoard. I would’ve helped, but, well, I was a little distracted.”

Rochelle nods. “Damn. How far did we run?”

“Pretty damn far, apparently. There’s no sign of them.”

 _Shit_ , Rochelle thinks. “We should circle back.”

She moves to stand up and stumbles, but Nick catches her arm before she falls. 

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Nick says. “You’re kind of useless right now.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rochelle grumbles. She knows that’s Nick-speak for _You need to rest and I’m not leaving you_ , so she can’t be too annoyed with him. Besides, he’s right and she knows it. The world is still tilting at odd angles; she can hardly walk, let alone aim. She sighs, straightening, and something catches her eye.

“Well, at least that tank chased us in the right direction,” Rochelle says, pointing beyond Nick’s shoulder towards familiar orange spray paint.

***

Luckily, the safe room is right around the corner and they don’t run into anything more dangerous than a few common infected, which Nick takes out with some well-aimed shots.

Once they’re in, Rochelle gingerly sits down and Nick checks her over for signs of a concussion.

He puts down the flashlight he’s been using to check pupil dilation and asks, “How are you feeling? Nauseous?”

“No.”

“Dizzy still?”

“A little. Not so much anymore. My head is killing me, though.”

“Well, that’s to be expected, but here.” Nick hands her a pill bottle, and she hesitates a moment before taking it. She can tell Nick’s leg is bothering him, despite his attempts to hide it, but she figures her head is probably worse and Nick would be annoyed if she tried to refuse them, so she just smiles at him gratefully and pops the last couple of tablets into her mouth. 

“Miraculously,” Nick continues, “it looks like you’ve somehow avoided a concussion.”

“Good. The sooner I’m better, the sooner we can go back for them.”

“Yeah,” Nick says distractedly, hand drumming on his thigh anxiously.

“I’m sure they’re okay,” Rochelle says gently.

“Huh?” Nick blinks. “Oh, I’m not worried. If anyone’s too stubborn to get eaten, it’s Coach and Ellis.”

“Uh-huh,” Ro says, flatly. “You’re completely worry-free.”

Nick narrows his eyes at her. “That’s right. Besides, there’s no way just the two of us could make it out there by ourselves. We’d be dead within a day.”

“Oh, for sure.”

“I’m just lookin’ out for myself.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Selfish to the core.”

Rochelle gives him a look. “Well, now you’re just trying too hard.”

Nick glares at her. “Oh, shut up.”

“It’s too late to pretend you don’t have a heart, Nick. I’m far too perceptive. It may be two sizes too small, but I know it’s there.”

“Ha,” he says flatly. “Well, I don’t see any roast beasts in our future, so don’t get your hopes up that it’s going to be growing anytime soon.”

They’re both silent for a moment as they stare at each other, Rochelle’s mouth twisting in an attempt not to laugh. A snort escapes her nose, though, and she gives up, shoulders shaking with mirth, and pretty soon Nick’s chuckling along with her.

“Oh man,” she says, shaking her head. “I wish Ellis was here to laugh in your face and call you Mr. Grinch.”

Nick’s smile falls from his face, and he looks at his hands. “Yeah, me too.” 

Rochelle feels a pang in her chest, and the worry comes rushing back. It’s funny, she hardly knows Coach, Ellis, and Nick. She only just met them a few weeks ago, and despite the forced living arrangements, they don’t often talk about themselves. Or, well, not about the big stuff anyway. They don’t know that she has a sister and nephews that she’s worried sick about. She doesn’t talk about how she misses her friends, misses talking to women. She won’t tell them that she was worried at first about being the only woman in the group, won’t say that she wasn’t just scared of the zombies the first few nights. They’ve proven themselves to her over and over in a thousand different ways, and she knows that she could have had it a lot worse, is grateful to them for everything they’ve done for her and helped her to do. She trusts them. Somehow they’ve become three of the most important people in her life. 

Nick was right when he said they’d both be dead within a day without Coach and Ellis, but not just because of the danger. She and Nick are--somewhat alarmingly--similar: dry-witted and cynical and far too pessimistic. They need Coach’s encouragement and leadership, and Ellis’s humor and optimism almost as much as they need them to watch their backs.

She considers reaching out and touching Nick’s shoulder in comfort, but she knows him well enough to know that wouldn’t be well received, so instead she says, “I’m feeling better. We should go look for them.”

“It’ll be dark out soon.”

“Then we should definitely go now.”

“Try walking first.”

Rochelle huffs and gets up, but she stands too quickly and has to brace herself against the wall when she’s hit with a particularly nasty headrush. 

Nick sighs.

“No, it’s fine, just a headrush,” Rochelle says quickly. But the truth is her head’s still pounding and she’s not so sure of her ability to concentrate well enough to aim. Defeated, she shakily lowers herself to the ground again.

They’re silent for a minute before Nick says, “Maybe I should go alone.”

Rochelle frowns. “What happened to ‘the two of us would be dead within a day?’ There’s no way you’re going out there by yourself, you’ll be dead within the _hour_.”

Nick makes a frustrated noise and starts pacing the length of the room.

“Nick.”

“All right, you caught me. I’m worried, are you happy?”

“Not really,” Rochelle says honestly. 

Nick says nothing and continues pacing. They’re both silent for what feels like hours but is probably only thirty minutes or so, and Rochelle’s brain is still pounding away inside her skull like a confused zombie trying to bash open a door. Nick finally stops his restless pacing and sits down next to Rochelle, head thunking back against the wall once in agitation. Rochelle sighs and closes her eyes. It’s starting to look like they’re going to have to go looking for them in the dark and she is distinctly _not_ looking forward to that.

Nick starts drumming his fingers against his thigh again, and after a while of this, Rochelle is sorely tempted to tell him to stop (his anxious fidgeting not helping in the least with her own anxiety), but when she opens her eyes to look at him, Nick is staring at the safe room door with a weird sort of intensity, brows furrowed and bottom lip caught between his teeth, so she decides to leave him alone. He runs a nervous hand through his hair and hisses, finally breaking the silence, “It’s been nearly an hour and a half, where the hell are they?”

As if on cue, there’s a loud pounding on the door that makes Nick and Rochelle jump. It’s followed by Ellis’ muffled, “Hey, y’all in there? Open up!”

“Seriously,” Coach’s gruff voice intones. “It’s getting dark out, people!”

Rochelle lets out a huge sigh of relief and Nick hurries to unlock the door, not even bothering to suppress his grin. When Ellis and Coach are inside and the door is shut and secure, Nick surprises everyone by pulling Ellis in by his t-shirt and hugging him tightly. Ellis seems at a loss for what to do at first, but then he smiles crookedly and tentatively wraps his arms around Nick’s back.

“Hey, man,” he says. “It’s good to see you too.”

Nick coughs and releases him. “Yeah, well, you know.”

“Where the hell’s my hug?” Coach says, eyebrow raised in mock affront.

“Sorry, buddy, I only give out one a year,” Nick says, bravado in full force. “Besides, Ellis looked like he needed a hug.”

“Yeah, sure. Ellis did,” Coach says flatly.

“Yeah, careful, Nick, or I might suspect your heart’s grown three sizes,” Rochelle says.

Nick shoots her a glare, and Rochelle laughs.

“Ha!” Ellis says, laughing. “Oh man, Nick, can I start calling you Mr. Grinch?”

Rochelle cackles and Nick shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Be careful what you wish for,” he mumbles. 

Rochelle smiles, smug in her knowledge that he doesn’t really mean it.


End file.
